


Hiding

by still_lycoris



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Angst, Episode: s04e11 Orbit, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-07 01:28:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1113898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/still_lycoris/pseuds/still_lycoris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After what happened in "Orbit", Vila doesn't want to see Avon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hiding

After locking the door, Vila piled as much furniture in front of it as possible. He didn’t trust the door locks. They were electronic and even if Avon couldn’t open it himself – which he probably could – Orac would do it. That horrible little monster. Yeah, he’d open the door for Avon, he pretty much did everything Avon asked these days. Vila didn’t want that door opened.

He glared at the door uneasily, still not sure it was enough. He didn’t want Avon to come in. And Avon _would_ , he’d come because he would probably think that he could talk Vila round, stupid, stupid Vila would just forget that only hours ago, Avon was calling his name all silky-soft, planning to … planning to …

Vila dug under his bed for a bottle of wine and gulped some down. It didn’t really help but hopefully if he kept drinking, he could eventually pass out and that would be better. Except then if Avon somehow sneaked in, he’d be all helpless … not that he wasn’t helpless in front of Avon anyway, Avon was stronger than him, he could hold Vila down if he wanted, even if he didn’t have a gun, he could …

Of course, Avon wouldn’t. He was being stupid, like he always was, only about different things. Avon didn’t have any reason to kill him, not now. Now they were safe, Vila’s occasional usefulness would matter more and he’d be left alone or insulted until Avon needed him. It was fine. Just fine.

Except it wasn’t. And it never, ever would be.

He kept thinking about how Avon had _sounded_. Soft. Coaxing. He’d thought Vila wouldn’t see through that? Avon, who barked and snapped and yelled? Did he really think Vila was _that_ stupid?

Well. He probably was. He’d heard Avon sound like that before, but only in private, only when it was dark and hot and Avon was pressed tight against him, whispering in his ear: _Vila, Vila, just like that, yes, that’s good, Vila …_

That had probably been a lie too. Avon just _wanting_ stuff from him so pouring on the sweetness. Stupid Vila, falling for that. He betted Dayna wouldn’t have done. Or Cally or any of the others. They’d have remembered that Avon was poisonous, in and out. They wouldn’t have let him in bed – or if they had, they’d have remembered it was meaningless, that Avon was just playing his own game, like he always did. Vila had thought he’d known it, thought he’d remembered but he clearly hadn’t, he’d clearly let himself forget, let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, what they did together _meant_ something sometimes, that it was something that made them both feel good, that it was something – well.

He’d thought they were _friends_.

There was a faint sound at his door and Vila jerked, spilling some of the wine over his hand. He stared at the door, gulping at the air, praying it wouldn’t open. There was another sound, as though someone was trying to operate the lock. Then nothing. 

Vila huddled, staring at the door for a long, long time. Had Avon gone? Had he ever been there? Maybe it had been one of the others … although they would have called out, wouldn’t they? They’d have wanted to know why the door was locked, why Vila was hiding. They didn’t understand …

Maybe Vila had imagined it. That was more likely. Why would Avon come? Why would Avon even care? He was being stupid, thinking that Avon would bother, now. He was being an idiot. Again. Avon wouldn’t come. He wouldn’t come again. Vila ought to be happy about that. He _was_ happy about that.

He just didn’t feel safe, that was all. He hadn’t felt safe for a long time but he felt less safe now. The Avon he’d believed in, the Avon he’d let himself trust was gone and he was stuck with Tarrant who didn’t like him, Dayna who tolerated him and Soolin who … well. He wasn’t sure what Soolin thought. But probably not much.

With a miserable sigh, he crept into bed, cuddling the mostly empty bottle to him. He didn’t want to think any more. It might seem better in the morning. He’d have to make it work somehow. After all, he had nowhere else to go.

Outside, Avon stood staring silently at the door for a long, long time.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2013 livejournal 12dayschristmas challenge.


End file.
